


The Morning After

by MechBull



Series: Girls' Night [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 23:05:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3186629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechBull/pseuds/MechBull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of firsts (first times, that is).</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> Note the change in rating from the previous two parts of this series.

It should go without saying, but Jemma Simmons wasn’t stupid. She wasn’t the youngest (even if only by 23 days) recruit at the Academy because of her pretty face. But she _was_ inexperienced in…certain life milestones. 

Sex. She was inexperienced in sex.

And really, being a virgin wasn’t that big of a deal. She was only 17, after all! Hardly an old maid. And obviously virginity was a cultural construct reinforcing patriarchal notions of female purity and ownership, anyway. But when you spent your entire life surrounded by people much older than you, feeling like a child playing dress-up even if you outscore them on every exam, every little signifier of youth and immaturity starts to niggle. 

She was in a new country, settled there now with one semester unbelievably completed already and a new one starting the next day. There were amazing opportunities in front of her. Jemma wanted to finally embrace her new, adult life in every way. She’d start by getting the whole…sex thing…over with. 

She didn’t really know how to go about it, though. And with whom? Because most guys barely gave her a second look even now. She was the nerdy baby of the class, as usual. And she was hardly skilled at flirting. Or conversing at all. 

Jemma sighed, taking a sip of the beer that the Boiler Room’s bartender had served her begrudgingly. He was unlikely to get in trouble for serving minors, as the venue wasn’t really under the jurisdiction of the police, but Jemma imagined it was the principle of the matter. She had used the opportunity to practice beguiling someone, leaning over the bar, blinking too rapidly, mouth slightly open in a lazy smile, licking her lips every once in a while.

She wondered if she looked like she was having a stroke or something.

But it worked, or else the bartender took pity on her. He handed her a beer, with the instructions to stay at the bar where he could keep an eye on her, which was kind of insulting because it wasn’t like she had never had alcohol before.

He occasionally returned to talk to her during slow times, though, and at the end of the night, he offered to walk her back to her room. Jemma readily accepted, hoping he didn’t notice the blush spreading up her cheeks. He’d do – he had a low body fat percentage and a symmetrical face and she wasn’t looking for much else.

When they arrived outside the building, Jemma moved ahead to unlock the door, then glanced over her shoulder. She offered him a smile, a barely noticeable tilt of the head, and then she walked through the door, holding it open with her fingers a little too long to be natural. Finally, it slipped out of her grasp, but Jemma heard him catch the door before it closed. She smiled to herself and kept walking.

She wasn’t stupid, though. She knew the only reason he came home with her was because she was just the right side of jailbait and had a pretty face. 

It was…uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure if she was doing it wrong, or if he was, or if that was what it was supposed to feel like. But if it was, there were a lot of people fooling themselves about how great sex was. His breath was hot on her face, and she didn’t know where to put her hands, and she could have done with a few more minutes of preparation before he pushed into her. From Jemma’s research, she knew men lasted about seven minutes on average, and judging by the faces he was making, he apparently was at the low end of the bell curve, probably part of the large portion that completed within two minutes. She was pretty sure she never reached orgasm, and she was even surer that if she had to wonder, the answer was almost certainly no. She considered trying to fake it, but decided against it. She wasn’t a very good liar. It didn’t really seem to matter to him, anyway.

She was feeling more than a little disappointed, even the next morning still. But she quickly forgot about it as she walked into the chemistry lab. A new semester! Far more exciting than any overblown rites of passage. She grabbed a copy of the syllabus from the table by the door and flipped through it as she walked to a nearby empty seat. Oh, assigned lab partners, that was – 

She stopped dead in her tracks. And then seconds later, she heard a clatter and looked in the direction of the noise. If the way he had apparently just dropped and desperately tried (and failed) to grab his pen meant anything, Fitz had just reached the same section of the syllabus. He looked around the room then, meeting her eyes with a vaguely panicked expression on his face. 

But truthfully, Jemma couldn’t help being intrigued by the idea. And she wondered what exactly it said about her that the tingling shiver that went through her body as they held each other’s gaze was more pleasurable, possibly more life-changing, than anything she had felt the night before.

**

After the – frankly disastrous – time with the bartender and the eventual realization that no one else on the campus interested her at all, Jemma ultimately decided to take matters into her own hands. She did an almost embarrassing amount of research and second-guessing before purchasing the...device and related _accoutrements_. And when it was delivered in its discreet little package, she chickened out and hid it beneath her bed.

It was a week or so later before she finally pulled it out again. Fitz had been over, ostensibly to study but really to illegally download and watch Nine regenerating into Ten. There was limited seating in the room, so he had been flopped out on her bed while she sat next to him, back against the wall. And she couldn’t stop thinking about the box under them. 

Out of embarrassment, of course. 

Once he finally left, she reached down and unpacked it. She read the directions and reread all the information from the blogs she had printed out, put in batteries, washed it while feeling particularly grateful she could heat up water in her kettle and had a thing of soap in her room so she didn’t have to do it in the communal bathroom, tried to roll a condom on it but ended up ripping it, rolled another condom on successfully, and then slicked it up with some of the lubricant. She took a breath, glancing around the room nervously and then shaking her head at herself. No one was watching her. Then she hopped up and ran across the room to check the lock on her door about a dozen times. She turned on the stereo to drown out any possible noises. And she got undressed and lay down, standing the device up on the shelf next to her and pulling the lightweight sheet over herself to feel less exposed. 

She started with her fingers, familiar territory at least. Work up to it. Closing her eyes, she began to stroke softly, imagining the digits were thicker, rougher, more masculine. And she brought her other hand up to cup her breast, squeezing gently and every so often pinching the tight nipple between her knuckles. 

Her breath was soon coming in sharp little bursts, drying out her throat and lips, and her head was tilted almost too far back against her pillow. She straightened out her fingers, pressing down as she rubbed harder. She could feel something building up in her, tensing. But it wasn’t enough. Just like all the other times she had tried this, it wasn’t enough. She opened her eyes and blinked up at the ceiling. And then she reached out, groping for the vibrator. 

Planting her feet on the mattress, knees up in the air, she spread her legs and heaved a breath. It took three or four tries, each time with a slightly deeper slide, before it was in her far enough for the little appendages to touch her clit. And then she turned it on.

She couldn’t breathe for a moment, her whole body seizing up in surprised pleasure, her eyes squeezing shut, her mouth opening and closing in silent screams. And then she made a very loud noise she had never heard before. She brought one hand up, clapping it over her mouth to stifle her moans. A part of her, bizarrely, almost wanted to start crying. 

She began slipping the device in and out, not enough to actually leave her body, but just enough to establish a rhythm as she pushed off the mattress with her feet, lifting her hips. And then she cast her mind around for some sort of fantasy to accompany her actions. Not her previous experience, that was for sure. And she couldn’t really come up with any guys who seemed the least bit interesting. The only thing she could clearly picture was earlier with Fitz – no, not – the new Doctor. 

Hmm, yes. Nice and lean. A boyishly attractive grin. The tightness was coiling in her again, more and more. She closed her legs slightly, intuitively trying to increase the pressure against her most sensitive areas. She bit her lip, completely unable to stop any of the near-sobs coming out of her now. 

She searched wildly for more, something to add to the fantasy. Curly hair. Wait, was it? Blue – blue eyes and long, delicate fingers that could build anything and probably take her apart and – Jemma was coming (definitely. It was definitely an orgasm.), rolling over to her side to press her face into her pillow and muffle the shout that left her throat raw even the next morning. 

She sipped her tea, hoping it would soothe the pain. And because it gave her something to look at besides Fitz. Or his fingers. She had double-checked before class, scouring the internet for pictures. The new Doctor did not have curly hair or blue eyes. She had no clue where her mind came up with those details.

No clue.

**

She liked Matt fine. The guy was funny, could be charming, and often was capable of speaking in complete sentences, which was more than could be said for most of the field agents at Sci-Ops. He also was extremely attractive and had quite good muscle definition. But she wasn’t really looking for a romantic entanglement. She and Fitz had far too many interesting projects going on at the moment to worry about any distractions.

In the end, though, she accepted his offer of dinner. Partly because she had been asked one too many times by other women in the break room what exactly was going on between her and Fitz (as if it were impossible for a man and woman to simply be friends!). And partly because when she told Fitz that Matt had asked her out, he just sat there staring at her for a few moments, then told her to have a good time and immediately started working on the Golden Retrievers again. 

She was glad she did, though. She had fun, once she got past her awkwardness. She truly was incapable of flirting, apparently. But, once she calmed down, their conversation flowed. Although she probably brought Fitz up too many times, if Matt’s little twitches every time she said his name were any indication. She’d have to remember that for the future.

Nonetheless, an overall successful date. And it ended very properly, with a quick, chaste kiss to the corner of her lips and a promise to call her soon. She was pretty sure she was almost gushing when she told Fitz about it the following Monday. And, for the first time, she wished she had a close girl friend or two, because they probably would have reacted more excitedly than he did. Barely even looked at her, made a couple _hmm_ sounds to indicate he was listening, and when she gave up to start working, she heard him mumble something under his breath about meatheads.

Jemma more than enthusiastically accepted Matt’s offer of a second date. 

It was after the societally acceptable third one, however, when she invited him up for quote-unquote coffee. 

This time was…better than before. The world didn’t exactly rock, and she didn’t see any fireworks, but at least he seemed to care if she had a nice time. He kept asking her if this move or that caress felt good, if she wanted to change positions, if he was hurting her or going too fast. Frankly, she ended up feeling a little too self-conscious, almost too obligated to enjoy herself after all his concern, to relax fully and really give herself over to the activity. But it was definitely better than before. And, as she’d learn over the next several months before they finally called it quits, it only continued to get better – indeed, sometimes even great – with time and familiarity.

It was still new and fragile the morning after, however, which made the friendly teasing she received a bit too much to handle. The other women in the break room took far too much pleasure in asking how her _third_ date with Matt went, complete with exaggerated winking. And when she walked into the lab, Fitz only glanced at her, with some kind of weird expression she couldn’t read, before returning to his work.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how my date went?” she asked, feeling oddly angry.

He sighed, looking up and staring blankly in front of him. “How was your date?” he finally asked, his tone as robotic as the little machines he was working on. 

“Amazing,” she practically spit back at him, ignoring his almost imperceptible flinch at her response. She didn’t care if the topic made him…uncomfortable or something. He was her best friend and she needed his support in this. “You could at least pretend to be happy for me,” she concluded.

She walked over to her bench, slammed her bag down, and after three tries, finally managed to pull a fresh set of gloves from the box. 

It was practically an hour later before he broke the tense silence. “I’m sorry, Simmons. I – ” he paused, reaching up to scratch at his eyebrow. “If you’re happy, I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” she said meekly. “I am happy.” Ish, she added silently.

**

She was close enough still, despite having turned down another corridor, to hear the loud hoots and hollers from the other guys. She smiled to herself, knowing Fitz must be following her. But she was far enough ahead to make it to her room before he caught up to her. She left the door slightly ajar, and took a calming breath. Then she sat on the bed and faced the door to wait.

After a light knock, Fitz pushed the door open the rest of the way and entered the room with a smile. He opened his mouth to say something, but she beat him to it.

“Close the door, Fitz. Lock it.”

He didn’t have to be told twice, though he did fumble slightly with the handle. But then he was hurrying over to her, sitting on the mattress with a little bounce and facing her hopefully. Jemma smiled slowly, reached a hand out to run her fingers down his cheek, and then pulled him closer for a soft, quick kiss.

“Did you have a nice evening?” she murmured into his lips. 

“Mm-hmm,” he breathed out, leaning forward again to snag her in another kiss. 

Neither of them said anything for several minutes until finally Jemma pulled away with a little gasp. He placed tiny half-kisses along her face, moving to the side until he reached her ear and sucked the lobe in, worrying it between his teeth and lower lip. 

“Do you want to have an even better night?” she groaned breathlessly.

And then Fitz sat back. He stared at her, the arousal on his face competing with apparent and absolute surprise, mixed in with more than a little fear. Jemma placed her palm to his cheek and nodded in reassurance.

“I’m ready,” she whispered. “I think it’s time. How about you?”

“Um,” Fitz wavered. “Ah…yeah. Yes.”

Jemma nodded again, a wide smile growing on her face. “OK then.”

Despite the fact that it was hardly the first time they had snogged or even let their hands go wandering, it suddenly felt like they had no clue how to move with each other. For two people accused more than once of sharing a psychic link, things got clumsy and almost silly very fast. His hands were shaking so badly, she eventually had to unhook his belt for him. And when she tried to pull off her shirt, her head got stuck. He had to tug hard on it for her and they ended up smacking their foreheads together once she was finally free. Maybe it was nerves, maybe it was the lingering alcohol in her system, but by the time they were both naked, Jemma couldn’t help giggling at the absurdity of it all. Fitz froze at the sound before he too started laughing. 

But then she stopped laughing and started moaning when he pressed her back onto the mattress and bent down to kiss her again. He dropped lower and lower, focusing on her mouth, her neck, her breasts, her stomach in equal turns. She buried her hand into his hair, sad that it was too short to really get a good grip on and reminding herself to hint he should grow it out again. Her toes, her whole feet really, curled in pleasure as his tongue dipped into her navel, and then – 

“Ow! Ow!” Jemma’s eyes sprung open even as Fitz jumped away from her.

“What? What did I – ?”

“Cramp!” Jemma choked out, lifting her leg to try and rub at the calf. 

Fitz immediately focused on the offending muscle, encouraging her to flex her foot and point the toe up as he pressed his fingers into the knot. Finally, it started to relax, and Jemma sighed, nodding at him.

“OK?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Fitz shook his head. “Don’t be,” he reassured her before leaning closer and dropping a kiss on her calf. Then he stuck his tongue out, trailing a lick up her leg, resting it on his shoulder as he lowered down and got closer and closer to – 

Jemma placed her hands on his shoulders, locking her elbows to hold him back. “What are you doing?” she asked nervously.

He stared up at her, shock and confusion in his eyes before nodding towards her…her… _her_ in indication. “I’m gonna...you know, use my mouth.”

“You want to?” she asked in surprise. She had heard things, pretty amazing things, but had never actually…and she couldn’t imagine Fitz, with his squeamishness about bodily fluids and odd smells and tastes and…

“You don’t?” he replied, sounding disappointed. 

“Um…no,” she finally decided, her heart pounding. “Not – I’ve never – just…maybe another time.”

“OK,” he shrugged. But then he dropped his eyes from hers, looking back down at her body somewhat longingly, and Jemma hesitated.

No. She…no. She couldn’t. She wasn’t ready for that. 

Grabbing at his shoulders, she pulled at him. “Come up here and kiss me again,” she commanded, and he immediately complied. 

He sunk into her embrace and Jemma shivered at the feel of his erection pressing into the crease of her groin. She had felt it before, obviously, but always separated by clothing. Now, naked and only inches from where it would soon be, it felt…it was…she wanted it inside her. 

Jemma moaned at the thought, wrapping her arms around Fitz’ neck to pull him deeper into the kiss. She opened her mouth wide, encouraging him to plunge his tongue into her. And she bucked her hips up, hoping to – yes, there. He ground his hips down, moving in small circles, and she hooked one leg over the back of his thighs. 

He shifted to the side and reached one hand down, fingers seeking blindly for her entrance and then slipping between her folds. They slid easily in the wetness there and he stroked them upwards to her clit. His hand shook slightly, perhaps from nervousness, perhaps because he sometimes still couldn’t quite control it well. Either way, it only added to the sensation. Jemma broke the kiss with a gasp, arching her back as she reached up behind herself to fumble for the drawer of her bedside table. 

Fitz took the hint, launching himself away from her and onto his knees as he leaned closer to the table. Jemma dropped her own focus down to the erection bobbing just in front of her, and she couldn’t stop herself from reaching out to take it in both hands.

“Fuck, don’t.” Fitz gritted out, twitching in her grip, and she immediately let go. And then he was backing away from her, one condom in his hand and several more falling out of his grasp onto the floor. 

He sat down to the side of her, focusing intently on the wrapper. He tore at one corner, but his fingers, trembling and sticky-wet with traces of her arousal, were essentially useless. He swore again, and Jemma reached out to take it from him. It took her several tries and eventually her teeth, but soon the package was open, and she was bending over to roll it on him. She could feel her own breath on her hands, and above her, Fitz was whimpering, saying something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like maths equations.

Then, as soon as it was ready, he moved quickly, almost tackling her back onto the mattress. Jemma _oof_ ed as she bounced slightly, but her resulting laugh soon turned into a sharp inhale. He lined himself up, pushed in incrementally. He looked at her for a reaction, for guidance, running one hand through her hair as they made eye contact. Jemma nodded, reaching down to cup his bottom and pull him further into her. 

Finally, he was in all the way to the hilt, and they didn’t move for a long moment. He buried his face in her neck, and she could hear his labored breathing in her ear. She winced a bit, shifting to get used to the feeling of fullness, to accommodate the stretch, and then she exhaled shakily. 

“Now, Fitz,” she instructed, her voice strained. “Please.”

He started to move then, pulling back to prop himself up on his elbows. They stared into each other’s eyes as they rocked together, occasionally closing the distance to join up in messy, breathless kisses. The friction, the weight of him pressing down on her was just right, and she could feel the familiar tension in her, building and building. 

Just as she reached a hand down to help along the process, he swore, breaking eye contact as he shifted his weight and looked to the side. She noticed then that his bad arm was shaking, the muscles quivering as they started to give out.

“I – I’m sorry, I can’t – ” he grunted.

“It’s OK,” she reassured him, moving quickly if slightly awkwardly until they were both on their sides. She pulled him closer, drawing him into a kiss, keeping her eyes open until she saw the pained, embarrassed expression on his face disappear. And then she redoubled her efforts at moving with him.

But she quickly realized it wasn’t going to work. The mattress was too firm, the angle off, and they couldn’t find their rhythm again. She broke away, sighing and shaking her head. 

“Turn, Fitz,” she requested, pushing at his shoulder. “On your back.”

When she had broken the kiss, he seemed confused, but he quickly figured out what she wanted. He slipped out of her as he repositioned himself, and they both made small noises of complaint at the loss. But then he was ready, and she was climbing to her knees to straddle him. She reached down to take hold of him, kept him steady as she slid back down onto him. He squeezed his eyes shut at the feeling.

And…oh. With the bartender, whatever his name was, and even with Matt, she hadn’t felt comfortable enough to take the lead like this, so she had never realized how…she rocked her hips again, leaning forward slightly. Oh!

“There.” She inhaled an unsteady breath, tiny muscles in her face twitching.

“Yeah?” Fitz’ voice was deeper than she’d ever heard it.

Jemma nodded, almost frantic. “Right there, just – oh God.”

She began to move faster and faster, leaning forward to rest her weight on her hands, pressing down against his chest and scraping her fingernails against his skin. He bent his knees, planting his feet to rock up into her, and gripped tight to her waist. Jemma’s eyes closed involuntarily, and she tilted her head back with a groan. One of Fitz’ hands came up, his fingers tracing along her lips before he loosely wrapped his hand around her throat, pausing for a moment before sliding it farther down. He stopped at her breast, fondling softly and pinching at the nipple, and she was pretty sure she was almost there, she was actually about to – 

Jemma hissed in discomfort, and Fitz tore his hand away.

“Sorry!”

She blinked down at him, somewhat startled at what had just happened. “No, it’s fine,” she finally said. “You can – I like it, just not so hard, OK? They can get a little sensitive.”

“OK,” he said, voice skeptical and still hesitant. She reached out and grabbed his hand, bringing it back up to her breast to reinforce her statement. 

And soon later, they were moving again. He sat up to hold her tighter, one arm reaching back to brace himself and the other wrapping low around her hips, pulling her down impossibly closer. As they kissed, their movements lost any sort of pattern. Jemma’s hips were rotating in circles and she clenched around him while he squirmed in tiny little thrusts that he couldn’t actually get any force behind. The change in position resulted in just the right amount of friction, though, and she knew this time it would happen.

She broke the kiss, breathing heavily, brows furrowing as she chased the edge of her climax just out of reach.

“Jemma,” Fitz moaned into her shoulder. “I’m gonna – I’m so close – I – ”

She opened her eyes, trying not to sigh in disappointment as the orgasm skittered away from her again. Instead, she bent her head down to look at Fitz, not even having to fake the loving, gentle expression she gave him. She placed both hands on his cheeks, leaned forward to kiss his forehead.

“It’s OK,” she murmured. “Come for me, Fitz.”

He groaned then, his whole body tensing as he jerked and spasmed inside her. And then he exhaled, falling back to the mattress and pulling her down with him so she was lying on top of him. They both heaved for oxygen for a few moments, chests battling each other as they struggled to calm. Finally, he shifted underneath her, lifting her until he slid out of her. 

Jemma rolled off him, landing on her side and watching as he removed and took care of the condom. After tossing it in her trash, he faced her again, a shy, happy smile on his face.

“That was…”

Jemma smiled as well, blinking slowly. Even if she hadn’t been able to come, even if it had been a bit farcical at some points, it was still the best first time she’d ever had. Hell, it could have been a lot worse and it still would have been perfect, simply because it was with Fitz. “Wonderful,” she finally replied.

“Did you…you know?” Fitz asked, looking somewhat nervous. Jemma dropped her eyes and bit her lip, unable to lie about it but not wanting him to feel like some kind of failure. Fitz always felt too much like he wasn’t _enough_ , and he couldn’t be more wrong about that. But her silence was as good as an answer and when she looked back at him, he seemed crestfallen. “You didn’t,” he concluded. 

“Almost!” she informed him as brightly as she could. And then she shook her head, speaking quickly as she continued, “It’s not a big deal, though. I rarely do, especially not the first time.” 

“It is a big deal.” His voice was determined as he rolled closer to her, propping himself up with one arm above her. “And we’re going to do something about it.”

“Oh, no,” Jemma replied, somewhat breathlessly. “It’s really – ”

“What works for you, when you do come?”

“Please, Fitz,” she tried again, feeling a little embarrassed and far too touched by his insistence that she receive the same pleasure he had. 

“Hands?” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “The…the thing in the drawer?”

She blushed as she remembered what was in there. She hadn’t given it a thought when he was getting the condom but now… It seemed silly to be ashamed of that, considering they were naked with each other and just had sex, but…

“Fitz,” she whispered, turning her head away. 

“Jemma.” His voice dropped lower and seemed almost apologetic as he reassured her. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine, but I’m willing to do anything, OK? I want you to feel good. Just tell me what you want.”

She looked at him again, absorbed the concerned, sincere desire in his eyes, and nodded in understanding. He bent down and kissed her then, drawing her lower lip between his, and Jemma moaned softly. She remembered his earlier offer, or perhaps it was more accurate to say she allowed herself to acknowledge that it had never fully left the back of her mind. She screwed up her courage as he pulled away and looked at her again.

“Your…your mouth,” she finally requested. 

His eyebrows rose in surprise, and shortly thereafter, a grin spread across his face. “Yeah?”

She nodded, feeling her pulse pick up. 

“OK,” he replied, already starting to shift his way down the mattress. “We’ll just _try_ it, and if you don’t like it, we’ll stop.”

“Have you – ” She lifted herself up, bending her head down to watch him. “Have you done this before?”

“Ah…no,” he confessed, not meeting her eyes. 

“Then how…how do you know _you’ll_ like it?”

“Because I’ve been thinking about it for, like, a year. Longer, really,” he explained, the look he shot her just shy of saucy. 

“Oh.” Jemma smiled. She couldn’t think of much else to say to something like that. 

And then Fitz was down there, nudging her legs apart until they rested over his shoulders. She watched as he looked at her, tilting his head to the side like he was studying a particularly complex engineering problem. She bit her lip to stop her giggle as he bent forward and bumped her with his nose. And then he leaned in closer and wrapped his lips around her clit. A high-pitched cry came out of her, and her heel thumped against his back in a weak, involuntary kick.

For the record, she liked it. A lot. 

Eventually, they wore themselves out, collapsing onto the mattress but unwilling to let go of each other. Jemma slept what little remained of the night wrapped up in Fitz’ arms, and judging by how her lips and cheeks felt when she woke up, she must have been smiling the whole time. Really, her whole body was one giant pleasant ache. She watched him sleep for a while, until he finally started shifting. He blinked his eyes open, almost immediately making eye contact with her.

“Creepy,” he muttered, letting his eyes drift back closed, and Jemma burst into laughter. 

She rolled closer to him, reaching both hands out to start touching him again, fingers of one hand tickling at his side while the others poked and prodded at his lips until he smiled. 

“Let me sleep, woman,” he ordered gruffly, but she was hardly deterred, even by his subsequent yawn. He grimaced as soon as it ended. “Ow, my jaw hurts,” he complained. 

Jemma’s laugh, as she remembered what activities in particular would have strained his jaw, was perhaps a bit too joyously smug. She leaned closer, pulling him into a tight hug. “Best first time ever,” she whispered.

He snorted in apparent, slightly insecure disbelief. “It was,” she continued, trying to make him believe she was telling the truth. “We should have done that ten years ago.”

“I would have probably been up for that,” he confessed, finally opening his eyes to stare back at her. 

Jemma grinned. And then she took a deep breath, snuggling even closer. “And yes, OK,” she admitted, “there are…a few kinks we’ll need to work out, but Fitz – you know we’re always the best at everything we do together.”

“So,” he coughed, clearing his throat before continuing. “You’re, ah, willing to do it again then?”

Jemma rolled her eyes. “Yes, Fitz.”

He hummed in delight, giving in and cuddling her back. She didn’t even object to his (or her) morning breath when he kissed her. One hand slid down to cup her arse, pulling her closer to him, and she could feel that he was definitely into the idea of doing it again. And then his hand slid around to her front, squeezing between her legs as he went exploring with his fingers. 

Jemma hissed suddenly when he hit a sore spot. “Just maybe not yet,” she apologized. “I’m just a little – it’s been a while.”

Fitz nodded. “OK,” he accepted. “Can I keep kissing you, at least?”

“You better.”

**

“Good morning!” Jemma chirped as she walked into the break room, once she finally rolled out of bed. Fitz was still there, asleep again. Just because she felt too tender to do anything that morning didn’t mean her hand wasn’t functional, after all. Jemma smirked to herself as she remembered some of the noises he had made and the way he had twisted the sheet in his fist until it pulled off the edge of the mattress. Next time, she’d try her mouth, see if he enjoyed it as much as she had liked his lips and tongue on her.

And then she smirked even more when she spotted Skye and Bobbi at the table. They both had their heads down, buried in the crooks of their arms. Skye groaned in response to Jemma’s greeting. 

Hunter was leaning against the counter, shaking his head as he watched them. “Pathetic,” he said.

Jemma grinned, squeezing past him to reach for the teapot.

“I’m going to the kitchen to make greasy food,” he announced, slightly louder than necessary if Bobbi’s immediate hand wave at him meant anything. “Try and pull yourselves together before Coulson and May get back.”

She waited until Hunter left before facing the girls again. “How are you feeling?” she asked softly.

After a moment, they both sat up to look at her. Their faces were quite pale, making their bloodshot eyes stand out even more, and Jemma offered a supportive smile. Then she finished pouring her tea and walked over to join them at the table. She couldn’t stop the slight wince when she sat down, and she shifted in the chair, trying not to blush.

But even this hungover, Bobbi was an expert at reading people. “Jemma Simmons, you _slut_.”

She chuckled, shaking her head as she took a sip of her tea. 

“Really?” Skye asked, the excitement and happiness evident in her eyes despite the still sickly expression on her face.

Jemma nodded.

“Good?” Bobbi asked with an arch of her eyebrow.

Jemma nodded again, a grin spreading across her face. “Let’s just say,” she finally replied, “that a shaking hand isn’t always a disadvantage, and it doesn’t matter if he can’t find the right words if his mouth is otherwise occupied.”

“ _Ewwwwwwwwwww,_ ” Skye whined, dropping her head back onto her arms.

Bobbi held her hand out for a high five, which Jemma gleefully returned.

**Author's Note:**

> Heh, OK. I love a good first time fic fantasy, where everyone’s amazingly confident and skilled and multi-orgasmic/requires virtually no refractory period. But in many ways, I find “almost painfully awkward, maybe even bad, but still good because it’s the right person” first time fics even hotter. And I find “discovering feelings and/or sexual coming of age through masturbation” fics hottest of all.
> 
> There’s probably one more fic in this series/universe, but I’m going to let the ideas on that one simmer for a while and work on other things, both fic and non-fic. May will be involved in the next one, and I want to think about her character more because I’m not sure I have a good handle on it.


End file.
